


step out of the ordinary

by melwritesthings



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: But we all knew that, M/M, happy pride!, he is a cranky lil muffin, very david-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-07 01:14:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19074490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melwritesthings/pseuds/melwritesthings
Summary: The day-ruining lack of cinnamon scones at the café is nothing compared to this. “I’m sorry, what am I looking at here?” David gestures wildly at the cash register, coffee splashing out of the to-go cups in his hand.Patrick beams at him, clearly proud of his work. “Happy Pride, David,” he chirps, waving a small rainbow flag in his direction. “You’re gonna want to grab a mop for that coffee, by the way.”OR how David learned to relax and love pride.





	step out of the ordinary

**Author's Note:**

> hi all! my first fic for schitt's creek, I am hit-over-the-head inspired by this show. title comes from "proud" by heather small, my all-time gay anthem.

 

The bells above the door chime as David pushes through, delicately balancing a tray of coffee and scones from the café. “They were out of cinnamon and my day is officially ruin—”

 

His words die in his throat, voice carrying across the empty store. David stands in the doorway, suspended by the sight of Patrick at the cash register, arranging a new display that he had most certainly _not_ approved.

 

The day-ruining lack of cinnamon scones at the café is nothing compared to this. “I’m sorry, what am I looking at here?” David gestures wildly at the cash register, coffee splashing out of the to-go cups in his hand.

 

Patrick beams at him, clearly proud of his work. “Happy Pride, David,” he chirps, waving a small rainbow flag in his direction. “You’re gonna want to grab a mop for that coffee, by the way.”

 

David blinks at him in response, before twisting his face into a smile—baring his teeth in more of a scowl. “Yeah, okay sure, I’ll get right on that,” he says, forcing himself into motion. He presents his cheek for a kiss, and once he’s received it, he breathes deeply before asking again:

 

“So, what have we here?”

 

Patrick cocks his head and grins. “It’s June, David. Pride month!” He turns again to his display, tidying up a selection of colorful flags, hats, and accessories.

 

“No, yeah, I get that,” David says in what he hopes is his most patient-sounding voice. Patrick turns to him, smiling bashfully and clearly seeing right through him. “It’s just… when did we agree on this little addition?”

 

“We didn’t,” Patrick chuckles, “I made an executive decision. Since you are getting so good at _compromising_ these days, I thought it might be okay.”

 

David contorts his mouth in what Patrick thinks may be a literal attempt to swallow his tongue. His brain seems to have short-circuited. “Okay, okay, I see,” David breathes, “it’s just, I thought we’d agreed that creative decisions were for me to handle.”

 

Patrick laughs incredulously. “David, that was over two years ago! And I’m pretty sure that was a joke.”

 

“What part of you thought I was kidding?” David’s eyebrows have risen almost alarmingly towards his hairline. Collecting himself, he turns and motions around the store. “It’s a nice gesture, honey, really. But does pride _really_ match our aesthetic?”

 

Still beaming at being called _honey_ , Patrick grasps David by the shoulders and moves him back to face him. “David, it’s pride month and we’re a queer-owned business. What’s wrong with being proud of that?”

 

“I’m proud as _hell_ of that,” David snaps, “but do we have to put our creative integrity aside just because it’s pride? It seems so cheap to me.”

 

And it does. The flags and beads literally look cheap. They just don’t fit in his sun-soaked haven of artisanal delights. Plus, something about businesses capitalizing on pride never sat well with him.

 

“Come on, David,” Patrick says, “I’d like to show a little support. The town is really pulling out all the stops this year.”

 

Schitt’s Creek is holding its first pride festival that weekend, and Patrick is right. Local businesses are putting together a fair of food and crafts, Moira has been planning a night of performances, there’s even a small parade planned.

 

With Council’s backing, Alexis has been spearheading most of the civic displays of support. She’d spent the last week hanging flags from every lamppost in town. David is nauseated every time he steps outside.

 

David has never felt any use for pride celebrations. He isn’t unsure or ashamed of his sexuality by any means; it’s just a natural part of him. David had always fucked who he wanted and dated who he wanted. He doesn’t need a parade for that.

 

He craves validation on many fronts; this isn’t one of them.

 

But he caves at the hopeful look that Patrick gives him, as he knew he would. “I suppose there’s no harm in flying the colors,” he begins, blushing at the wide grin that crosses Patrick’s face. “But you’re going to _have_ to let me fix this display.”

 

“I expected nothing less.”

 

\--

 

An unfortunate sense of déjà vu washes over David as he approaches the store after his lunchbreak that Friday. Staring at him from the front window reads a sign in thick black lettering:

 

_Rose Apothecary will be closed this weekend for Pride celebrations. Please visit us next week!_

He sighs as he pulls the door open. At least the sign looks somewhat on brand. Patrick is sitting on the counter, blushing wildly as Alexis wraps a colorful feather boa around his neck.

 

David steps inside to see that not only did his sister bring _rainbow feathers_ into his store, but that the pride décor is no longer regulated to Patrick’s little display. A paper garland hangs over the door; strings of flags droop down from the ceiling.

 

There’s a fucking wreath on the bathroom door.

 

Alexis and Patrick bite back smiles as they watch David survey the room. If the decorations were black or grayscale—hell, even jewel tones—he doesn’t think he’d mind them. But they aren’t.

 

They’re blindingly colorful, like his mother’s worst wigs combined and draped across his store. They’re gaudy and tacky and so _forced_ , David thinks he’s going to explode.

 

He wheels around to face his sister. “What have you done, you goblin?” he barks at her. The smile instantly drops from her face. Patrick looks disheartened. David hates that look, but tries to keep his gaze fixed firmly on Alexis.

 

“Don’t be like that, David, I’m just adding some festive cheer to your drab little establishment.”

 

David is stunned. “Fucking _excuse_ me? Drab?” He moves towards her slowly, knowing that if he doesn’t stop himself, he’ll throttle her.

 

Alexis squares her shoulders, digging in the for an argument. “Yes, David, drab. We are trying to celebrate here, and your store looks like Victorian morgue.”

 

“Well I’m sorry that I’m just not interested in this manufactured pride!” he hisses, determinedly avoiding the disappointment he feels radiating from Patrick.

 

“Why can’t you just let us do this for you?” Alexis cries, stamping her foot.

 

“Do _what_ for me,” David shouts, “and don’t you dare scuff my floors!”

 

“Be proud of you!”

 

David stops short, any retort arrested in his throat. A thick, weighted settles over the store as he studies his sister.

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

Alexis swallows hard before raising her chin, looking at him fiercely. “We’ve never been able to do this before, David. You were almost always out and that’s always been okay with us, but we’ve never been able to do the whole pride thing with you. And now you’re engaged and we’re all here, and why can’t you just let us _have_ this?”

 

He can’t stand it. David grips the display table until his knuckles are white.

 

“It is not my fault that this family has historically been too absent, or too drugged up, or _too held-hostage_ to be proud of me,” he says darkly.

 

“That’s not fair, David,” Alexis says quietly, dropping her gaze. “None of us have been as good to each other as we should have been, including you.”

 

David opens his mouth to reply, sucking in a deep breath, but Alexis cuts him off. “But you know as well as I do that we have a lot to celebrate. And a lot to be proud of. Together.”

 

She looks back up at him, suddenly looking like the little sister that came to his room at night after a bad dream.

 

“I am so proud of you, David.” She turns to face Patrick, giving him a watery smile, “And I am so proud of you, Patrick. It is a shame that David won’t let himself feel that.”

 

Patrick smiles sadly back at her and David wishes the floor would swallow him whole.

 

She grabs her purse from the counter and leaves wordlessly, the chime of the door mocking him with its cheerfulness.

 

\--

 

David and Patrick finish the day quietly, speaking more to customers than to each other. At the end of the day, David flips their sign from _open_ to _closed_ while Patrick busies himself with the cash.

 

Fiddling with the sign, David speaks. He can’t take the silence anymore.

 

“I never thought that who I am was anything to be proud of,” he says quietly. “I’ve always owned my sexuality, but it never made me anything special. Pride, with all its glitter and joy, didn’t seem like it was made for me. Like it was for some special community that I wasn’t part of.”

 

He hears Patrick put down his ledger on the counter behind him. He hears the stool move as Patrick stands; hears his footsteps pad gently across the floor.

 

“I usually preferred the afterparties, where I could supply the drugs and buy drinks. I could feel special for a while then.” David finally turns to face Patrick, who looks at him with an expression so open that the words continue to tumble forth.

 

“I _am_ proud of us, god, and of you. Especially of you. And of who I am when I am with you.” His voice cracks as he speaks, “I just don’t think I’ll ever deserve a parade just for being _me_.”

 

Patrick smiles softly. He takes David’s hand in his own, soft fingers rubbing comfort into his skin. “First of all, David, you deserve a parade every day for being who you are. You make everything feel like a celebration.”

David bites his lip, tears stinging his eyes. Patrick steps closer, hands moving to grasp David’s hips.

 

“Second, this weekend is meant to be about all of us, and how far we’ve come. David, I just came out to my parents; we’re engaged. The town—your _family_ — is rallying behind us right now.” Patrick tightens his grip.

 

“Besides,” he says quietly, “we can’t be the only queer people in this town. And whether they are out or not, don’t you think they deserve to feel part of something like this? You said you never felt welcome at pride. You can change that feeling for someone else.”

 

David groans and crashes his lips against Patrick’s. Peppering kisses against his face, David whispers fiercely, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry; you’re right, of course you’re right. I’m sorry I made this about my insecurities—”

 

Patrick interrupts him with a searing kiss, cupping his face in his hands. “You never have to apologize for your insecurities, David, you know that.”

 

“But what I said to Alexis…”

 

“Well, yes, you should definitely apologize to her,” Patrick chuckles lightly, “but I understand where you are coming from. I just think it’s time to change what pride means for you.”

 

\--

 

Saturday morning is bright and airy; David is quiet as he dresses for the day. He can’t bring himself to wear a rainbow. He may be opening his mind to the idea of pride, but he won’t abandon his fashion principles.

 

He settles on a black sweater with red trim. Close enough.

 

Patrick, for his part, comes out of the bathroom looking like a boy scout looking to earn his “proud homosexual” badge. David watches wordlessly as he busies himself making a pot of coffee.

 

Patrick is wearing a white t-shirt that simply reads _proud_ in colored lettering. On his head sits a baseball cap embroidered with a rainbow.

 

“Where did that getup come from?”

 

Ordinarily, that question would have been laced with venom, especially at the sight of the hat. But today, he can’t bring himself to be snippy. He’s just curious. Had Patrick bought the outfit when he bought that display for the store? Had he hidden it after David’s terrible attitude spoiled things? David instantly feels guilty for tainting Patrick’s first pride.

 

“A package from my parents,” Patrick calls over his shoulder. He pads over to David with a steaming mug of coffee and kisses his cheek. “They sent some pride paraphernalia the other day. Did I tell you they were coming today?”

 

Now sitting at the little kitchen table, Patrick grins into his own mug, clearly still touched by his parents’ instant acceptance—even enthusiasm— for his coming out. David feels the air sucked from his lungs. It clicks instantly.

 

He sets his mug down and drops to his knees in front of Patrick.

 

“As much as I love the sight of you on your knees, babe, we’re going to have to get moving soon.”

 

David takes Patrick’s hands, squeezing them tightly. “I’m on board today,” he breathes, “I am here and present, and I am so in love with you.”

 

Patrick kisses him swiftly and soundly.

 

“That’s all I ever wanted.”

 

\--

 

The rainbow splashed across every inch of town is still a little much for him, and David fights the urge to grimace at the arch of balloons over the café entrance. Tacky is tacky, no matter the good intention.

 

David and Patrick meet up with the Brewers for a quick brunch before the festival. Twyla, apron bedazzled with a bisexual flag, takes their orders with a dreamy look on her face. She winks when she brings their meals, and Patrick beams at her.

 

The café is covered in streamers, balloons, and flags. David had no idea pride could mean this much to _anyone_ , much less the small-town inhabitants of Schitt’s Creek.

 

He wants to crack a joke about the sheer _extra-ness_ of it all, but when he turns to Patrick and sees him looking like a kid in a big gay candy store, David bites his tongue.

 

Patrick had settled into their relationship so quickly that it’s become easy to forget how new this all is to him. Here he is, newly out to his family, sitting with them having breakfast in the inside of a glittering rainbow.

 

Patrick’s parents seem unfazed by the décor. The simply smile at their son, reaching out occasionally to touch his hand.

 

David is overjoyed.

 

On the way out of the café, he grabs Twyla by the elbow. “This is impressive,” he says, gesturing to her apron, then around the entire space. “What prompted all this holiday spirit?”

 

Twyla smiles deeply, widely, and freely. “Schitt’s Creek has never been an intolerant place,” she muses, “and I’ve never felt unsafe here. But it wasn’t until recently that it’s felt like something to share… to celebrate. The Roses really shook things up around here, you know.”

 

David is stunned. He tightens his hold on her arm. “Thank you, Twyla,” he chokes, “I’m really proud of you.”

 

She grins and pats his hand gently, looking pointedly towards the café door where Patrick and his parents still wait for him.

 

\--

 

A crowd has gathered in the streets as the festival gets underway.

 

People are milling about, faces painted and flags waving. Music plays from loudspeakers—David recognizes Cher immediately. Vendors are selling food and drinks, all of the rainbow variety.

 

David is astounded; parades in New York never felt like this. He’s comfortable. People wave as they pass and David does not once doubt their intentions.

 

This feels like home. This _is_ home.

 

He turns to Patrick in awe. Patrick smiles—something dazzling and perfect—as if he can read David’s thoughts.

 

As people begin to gather for the parade, David spots his sister in a colorful dress. “I’ll be right back,” he murmurs to Patrick, who leans forward to kiss his cheek. “I love you,” Patrick whispers against his skin.

 

Alexis, as if sensing David’s approach, wheels around, defensive and ready. Before she can speak, David gathers her in his arms.

 

“Thank you,” he whispers into her hair, “and I’m sorry.” Alexis pulls away with a venomless _ew!_ and beams up at him.

 

“Walk with us?” she says hopefully, gesturing to his family that is standing behind her. His dad is sporting a rainbow tie and a cap similar to Patrick’s. His mother, like him, unable to forgo her aesthetic is dressed head to toe in black, with the exception of Alexis’s feather boa. Ted is decked completely in rainbow, with a notably giant flag draped about his shoulders.

 

David feels like he could burst.

 

He feels a tap on his shoulder and turns to see Stevie in her most colorful flannel. “Happy pride,” she says with a sly grin, pulling something out of her bag and reaching for David’s face.

 

“Don’t touch my hair,” he whines, which earns an _oh, shut up_ from Stevie. She pulls away and claps wickedly at her handiwork.

 

On his face she has deposited a pair of rainbow sunglasses.

 

David’s first instinct is to step on them, but upon seeing Patrick approaching with that lovesick grin he so cherishes, he decides to embrace the look. He throws an arm around Stevie as the parade begins moving.

 

His parents lead the way in true Rose fashion, handing out flags and waving to the crowd. Occasionally they turn back to smile at him; David blows a kiss each time.

 

The whole town must be out today, he thinks, people may have even driven over from Elmdale. Jocelyn and Roland dance alongside his parents, shouting and waving as they go. David takes it all in: his family, his friends, the absolute love of his life. _This is big_ , he thinks.

 

David takes Patrick’s hand and lifts it high in the air as he walks forth, waving to a crowd of kids with his other hand.

 

He’s part of something, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY PRIDE! i love you! thanks for reading :) find me on tumblr at woof-david, or on my main at chic-cooprs if you wanna chat or say hello.


End file.
